Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages онлайн

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And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade.

The blackbird has fled to another retreat

Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat,

And the scene where his melody charmed me before

Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more.

My fugitive years are all hasting away,

And I must ere long lie as lowly as they

With a turf on my breast, and a stone at my head,

Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead.

'Tis a sight to engage me, if anything can,

To muse on the perishing pleasures of man;

Though his life be a dream, his enjoyments, I see,

Have a being less durable even than he.

William Cowper

54

Not soon shall I forget—a sheet

Of golden water, cold and sweet,

The young moon with her head in veils

Of silver, and the nightingales.

A wain of hay came up the lane—

O fields I shall not walk again,

And trees I shall not see, so still

Against a sky of daffodil!

Fields where my happy heart had rest,

And where my heart was heaviest,

I shall remember them at peace

Drenched in moon-silver like a fleece.